What Has the World Come to?

I found this "restaurant" in the Chicago airport and it prompted me to say:
“HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH????????”

Fine dining meets cafeteria trays? And not in that chic-cafeteria-kind-of-way. I just don't understand...

As if that isn’t bad enough, I then had to look at this horribly unflattering photo online. Talk about a terrifying Halloween...

AHHHHHHHH.

So THAT'S What Friends are For: Even Frozen Feasts are Made with Love

I love frozen food as much as the next gal - if you say you don't then you're lying - but my appreciation for the convenience and fun packaging, (I get such satisfaction from stabbing the plastic wrap to allow the steam to come out, don’t you?), pales in comparison to the adoration my best friend Ali bestows upon Lean Cuisines. For the three years we lived together, every grocery list consisted of the same things: cheese, beer, turkey, and Lean Cuisines. After the first couple of trips we developed a great route to navigate the store – she would go to the deli and get the turkey and cheese while I grabbed the booze, and we would meet in the beloved freezer section to make our choices for the week. Beef stroganoff? Asian chicken? Penne pomodoro? The possibilities were endless! And, after a few of those beers, the Lean Cuisines were just as satisfying as eating a crepe out of Fabio’s hands on the Champs Elysees (actually, that sounds really disgusting but you get my point). I thought the best part about Lean Cuisines was the fact they are relatively low in calories, so they cancel out any of the liquid calories one may gain from the brewskies, but no, they are so much better than that…

When Ali and I first heard about the next theme party – “Anything but Clothes” – we knew immediately what we would wear. While the other girls would be in saran wrap and tin foil, we decided to think outside of the box. Literally. We saved up our Lean Cuisine boxes until we had enough to make an outfit, (which only took about three days), and I went to work. Like a little elf on Christmas Eve, I sat awake in my room crafting the creation. Have you heard of the wearable chocolate shows in New York? Well I was determined to make our ensembles a thousand times more glorious!

Did I succeed? You be the judge! And remember, don’t be a food snob! Even foodies can appreciate over priced and under portioned frozen meals – even if it’s only as a fashion statement.

Side note: after many, many, frozen meal taste tests I can assure you that the pizza, (plan NOT sausage), is by far superior to any other options. The macaroni and cheese can also be perfectly scrumptious, but only when doused with salt and pepper, (and Ali would even add chopped up carrots and celery for a little crunch – quite lovely indeed!)

*The above photo is of Ali in her Lean Cuisine haute couture

Ruh Row… Candy + Chicken + Hot Dog + Calamari = Trouble

Being a city kid who grew up in a town house I never, EVER, got to give out candy to trick or treaters, and when I lived in New Orleans I knew better than to open my door to strangers. Now that I live in a real apartment building with actual children I got so excited to finally give back to society in some small way – by fattening up the youth of America – that I ran to the grocery store and stocked up of treats. Eleven pounds of treats to be exact (so that’s what bathroom scales are for…) Darling reader, imagine my dismay when I discovered that my building does not allow trick or treating!!!!! Is that not the most disheartening thing you have ever heard? Luckily Brutus, my trusty dachshund (a “hot dog”) sidekick, and I had a back-up plan. We packed up our treats and costumes and headed over to my sister’s apartment building, who like the rest of the country and anyone with a soul, allows trick or treating.

My sister was kind enough to roast us a big ol’ chicken for dinner, Ina Garten style, complete with croutons and sautéed baby carrots. Free dinners are always awesome, but the downside of this equation is that she lives in a New York City apartment, (a.k.a very small), so her coffee table doubles as a dining room table. Brutus, dressed as a zebra, (see above), was sitting on the couch when our first trick or treaters arrived. My sister and I jumped up to answer the door and (can you guess where this is going?) when I turned around I saw Mr. Zebra gobbling down the chicken like Takeru Kobayashi at an all you can eat buffet. So immediately I shove my hand down his throat and try to pull out the chicken, but he starts to choke on a bone! As I’m sure you can imagine, it was really a terrifying experience, and not in that spooky Halloween kind of way. I grabbed him and ran over to the emergency vet clinic on 15th, nearly flattening a kid dressed as an octopus on my way out. I think I heard him scream “LOOK AT THE BABY ZEBRA!” but I could have totally imagined that.

Luckily Brutus is going to be totally fine but the moral of the story is: candy can not only lead to childhood obesity, but it can also try to kill your dog. Kids, if there was one thing I could teach you, it would be to not mix candy, chicken, and hot dogs.

(Does anyone else hear the “Debbie Downer” music playing in the background?)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

I'M FAMOUS!!!

NY MIEG Blog

Jamie and Bobby XOXOXOXOXOXO

Are you ready brotha’?

Oh I’m ready brotha’!








I just wanted to tell you boys that I love you, despite yo mama's book.

It Ain’t All About the Cookin, That’s For Sure

I read my darling Paula Deen’s book It Ain’t All About the Cookin’ this past summer and all I can say is WOW. The poor lady was agoraphobic and when she was finally forced out of her home to get a job to support those handsome little sons of hers, she was held up at gunpoint. Obviously I already knew this about Paula (doesn’t everybody?) from watching “Chefography,” but it was neat to read it from the professional paid writer, err I mean her perspective. All in all it was a fun read, but sadly Paula did not talk about her sons enough.

She basically paints a picture of them as been moochers who saw her success growing and grabbed on to her apron tails for dear life, (I can’t argue with that). Even though they are huge mama’s boys and will ride her fame wave up and down the Mississippi, I still love them both. I wish she had written about their love lives instead of her own. Yes my friend, that’s right, Paula gives a detailed story about sleeping with her husband – the big, jolly, white-haired, Santa’s doppelganger, boatin’ man.

Much like when JAG was eliminated from “Next Food Network Star,” this was a hard time in m life to get through. I love Paula, but do I really need to know about her sexual escapades? Luckily she did not mention anything about smothering each other in butter, which is quite a relief because after the bathrobe scene (PLEASE don’t make me describe it) in “Paula goes to Paris,” or whatever that special was called, that is pretty much what I pictured them doing…. Gross.

Back to those manly men of hers – It angers me deeply that “Road Tasted” does not feature the boys in their swim trunks. I saw Rachael in a bikini (no comment) on “40 Dollars a Day” and Giada surfing with Laird Hamilton, so why not the Deen boys? They could do a special called “BUTTA ME UP!” where they travel to great beaches around the country and see how long it takes for their skin to turn into pork cracklins’ when they use butter instead of sunscreen.

While I’m on the subject of Paula and her (cringe) sex life, take a look at this clip I found on Food Network Addict. She says she is “AS EXCITED AS A VIRGIN ON HER WEDDIN’ NIGHT… EXPECTIN’ BIG THANGS!” See for yourself.

Thank goodness for therapists.

*The above photo is of my standing outside of Paula's glorious restaurant The Lady and Sons in Savannah, GA. It’s blurry because I was so excited I could not stand still. Tee hee.

Are You Gonna Eat That??

I’m quite sure that if you love food like I do, the above photo makes you want to ask: “are you gonna eat that?” After you realize that technology has not figured out a way to transport food through the internet (NASA should get to work on that), your second question may be, “is that you, my dear L.T, in the picture?” For the record,

THE ABOVE PHOTO IS NOT OF ME!!!!

It is of my dear old dad and was taken in Memphis when we stopped on the drive home from New Orleans to New York for a light snack. We wanted to try a little bit of everything Memphis BBQ had to offer so we ordered the assorted plate, (meant for 8 people). Needless to say we ate every morsel. So yes, I am gonna eat that.

And Now It’s Time For Your LAST MEAL!!!!!:

My Uncle T.C says: Spaghetti and meatballs.
Totally.

Is There Something in My Teeth?

If you have ever had the pleasure of dining with me, I’m sure this question has become very familiar to you. I must say it at least a baker’s dozen (Baker? Get it? I couldn’t resist) times a day and have taken to carrying small mirrors around with me everywhere I go for post-meal-tooth-checks. I have even left one at work so that I don’t have to harass my coworkers into starring at my chompers. I look forward to getting a new glistening knife set so that I can casually lift the knife to my face and take a peek in the reflection. This however could turn out to be problematic; most people become alarmed when you raise butcher knives above your waist. Do you think they will be fooled if I tell them I have a gig as an old time carnival knife thrower? “I’m just practicing!! Go stand up against that wall and put an apple on your head…”

Dubious that this will work I am left with a few options: either stop eating to avoid food-in-teeth-embarrassment (impossible), suck it up and ask whoever I’m with to take a look (if they say yes I’ll be forced into that awkward picking at your teeth situation, and if they say no I look paranoid), or I can make food in teeth the new fashion trend. If rappers can wear diamond grills foodies should be able to have stuff in their teeth – it should be a sign of status! Yes, I did have a spinach salad for lunch today. Jealous? I have some friends in the fashion world and I pledge to you, dear reader, that I will work on getting a ten page spread in Vogue dedicated to the new tooth fashions (I could even get my dentist to pay for the shoot!) and the problem will be solved.

And Now It’s Time For Your LAST MEAL!!!!!:

My cousin Tommy says: It would be dependent upon the season. I asked what would he have in winter and he replied, "I'm not dying in the winter.”
Some help he is!

And Now It’s Time For Your LAST MEAL!!!!!:

Robbie from Kansas says: His mom’s enchiladas.
Mamas boy…

There is a God: I Am Getting a Cake From the Ace Himself

Ok, Ok, there really is no way to tell if Duff Golman himself will be making the cake I ordered, but it is still so exciting that I, yes ME!, will have a creation from Charm City Cakes for my golden birthday! Turning 23 years old on the 23rd of May is a big deal and I simply can not think of a better way to celebrate than by eating my best friend. If that sounds weird to you, allow me to explain. Duff and his team of incredible cake makers are famous for their absurd cake creations. You want an edible replica of the Taj Mahal? No problem! A tea party with Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the rest of the gang? Sure! What about a big rat? Or a bottle of tequila with a drunken, puking worm sleeping on top? Of course! Of course!

Take my word for it, these guys and gals are beyond talented. So when I got through to them I knew I only wanted one thing; a cake version of my dachshund Brutus. I sent in pictures and it will be so incredible to see what they come up with! I even got to talk to Mary Alice on the phone! (If you don’t know what I’m talking about get off my damn blog until you watch the show Ace of Cakes).

Alas my friends, (sighhhh), much like waiting for Babbo Day to finally come, we will have to wait until May 23nd when I make the drive from New York to Baltimore and pick up the glorious creation. I’ll bring it to the party, but no one better try to eat it.

*Charm City Cakes sent MEEEEEEE a letter!!!!!!!!!!! Jealous? Mwah ha ha ha! Mwah ha ha ha! (evil laugh)

Mario Batali, You’re My Hero: I’m Gonna Eat My Way Through BABBO

Oh Mario, how I love thee. I would proudly rub your rotund belly with sunscreen to protect your fair skin while we lay on a yacht in Portofino feeding each other white truffles. I have loved you since “Ciao America” even though it was a horrible show. I dutifully watched you explain that sauce is a condiment, the pasta is the star, on “Molto Mario.” I am so covetous of Gwenyth Paltrow – why would anyone want to go on a food tour of Spain with her? Isn’t she vegan? That’s no fun. Despite my anger over you picking her instead of me, I still beamed with glee when I watched you shake your booty to U2 with Michael Stipe. My admiration for you grew after reading Bill Buford’s Heat. My darling Mario, clearly you can party, really party, and that makes me love you even more!

Reading the book made me so envious of those diners at Babbo, I simply must go. I tried for two days in a row to get a reservation. The earliest one can make a reservation is a month in advance, so I meticulously called the reservation line a month before I hoped to go. I called for four hours before the busy tone finally stopped. Alas, their reservation book was full already. I tried again the next day; four and a half hours later I got through and secured the last space they had left… dinner for two at 11:15pm. “I’LL TAKE IT!!” Unfortunately, just like me, you will have to wait until November 10th to hear about it.

In the mean time, Halloween is fast approaching and what could be better than being the big orange man himself! You only need a few simple things.

The Do It Yourself Mario Batali Costume:
1. orange crocks
2. a long yet balding red wig
3. khaki shorts (no matter what the weather)
4. a pillow stuffed under your shirt
5. a bottle of wine in your hand
6. an apron with some tomato sauce rubbed on it
TA DA!!!! It’s that simple.

*Photo courtesy of FoodNetwork.com

And Now It’s Time For Your LAST MEAL!!!!!:

What would your last meal be? Having to pick only one food would be like “Sophie’s Choice” for me, but I ask everyone else this question so it’s only fair that I answer it myself. If I were being put to death tomorrow for torturing my friends and family with endless dull food stories, and had one final night here on God’s green earth, I would ask for a serious carbo-load with a few old favorites thrown in. The following, in no particular order, is the short version of my answer:

1. Spicy jerk chicken burrito from Juan’s Flying Burrito (New Orleans)
2. Pulled pork and coleslaw sandwich from The Shed (Somewhere on the highway between NOLA and Florida)
3. Spicy tuna roll drenched in soy sauce from Nobu (the one in Milan, of course)
4. Cheese burger and fully loaded baked potato from Port of Call (New Orleans)
5. Curly fries (must be from a drive through)
6. Chicken parmesan from my high school cafeteria, ah, memories... (NYC)
7. A big meatball sub from somewhere with construction workers loitering outside
8. A loaded Italian sub from Oasis Grill (LBI, NJ)
9. Philly cheese steak from Johnnies Roast Pork (Philly)
10. Beef stew with egg noodles from Ottomanelli’s (NYC)
11. My mama’s chicken noodle soup and salami sandwich (I ate this everyday in kindergarten), her spaghetti and meatballs, “favorite noodles,” and her mashed potatoes even though they suck
12. Vietnamese noodle soup from Wagamama (London)
13. Fried green tomatoes from Upperline (New Orleans)
14. Fried chicken from The Lady and Sons (Savannah, GA)
15. White chocolate bread pudding from The Pelican Club (New Orleans)
16. B.L.T from Silver’s (Southampton)
17. Lobster roll from Lunch (Montauk)
18. A prosciutto, lettuce, and tomato sandwich: the P.L.T, from E.A.T (NYC)
19. A shrimp po’boy from Mother’s (New Orleans)
20. Stove Top stuffing

21. Paella by that "Top Chef" cutie Ilan
22. And finally my own eggs, toast, sausage, and hash browns

Clearly part of my plan is to draw out the meal long enough to get a pardon… If you want to read what real-life criminals asked for, check out Dead Man Eating, or to see what the world’s best chefs would have picked, go buy My Last Supper: 50 Great Chefs and Their Final Meals by Melanie Dunia – it’s incredible! Review to follow soon.

*The above photo is of #17, heaven on earth

The Alton Chronicles: AKA How Alton Brown Became My Boyfriend

On August 22, 2007 I went to lunch with my sister Blaise and told her, (and you can ask her if you don’t believe me), that I could die happy if I met Alton Brown. I find him so charismatic, hilarious, and handsome; and I’m not alone. AB has a full website dedicated to him. Little did I know that merely two weeks later we would be face to face, a mere centimeters away.

I had started working at The Network and was working with my friend Nancy on expense reports, (sounds dull, but wait until you hear what happened next). I was looking down diligently taking notes when a man walked into her office, walked right up to her – practically in my lap – and asked her something; I don’t know what it was, the whole experience has become blurred in my head. Looking back I don’t see us in an office but rather floating on a cloud somewhere above the great Mississippi River, starring into each others eyes and discussing the best place to get crawfish. Back on Earth, I recognized the voice immediately and looked up and gasped. One of those must-be-in-a-movie-because-it’s-louder-than-humanly-possible kind of gasps. He looked down into my eyes and said:

Well hello there.

Our first date, as I like to refer to it, was a brief but memorable encounter. The next day I walked into work and to my surprise and glee, my boss Bob informed me that AB was downstairs in Chelsea Market filming right that minute! I ran to the elevator, pounding the button and willing it to move faster. I was about to climb out the top of the elevator car into the shaft and cut the cords if it would pummel me down to the ground faster, but alas the doors opened on there own. I saw him immediately. His shining blonde hair, his adorable little spectacles… how could anyone have missed him? Oddly enough people weren’t stopping to harass him for autographs. What stupid, stupid people, right? I hadn’t prepared a speech and was thrust into the situation so quickly that I simply was not prepared. I took one stumbling step and hid behind a pole to gather my thoughts. Here is your chance, you can do this, you can do this… But I couldn’t do it. I began to panic. Abort, abort! When I turned back around to get one more glimpse I realized something that I’m sure AB and his infinite wisdom had noticed long ago; I was standing behind a pole (honey I’m a foodie, I aint that skinny) and wearing a bright red dress. Inconspicuous? I don’t think so. Our eyes met and I saw a quizzical look on his gorgeous face. I smiled, made some sort of grunting sound, and walked back to the elevator. It was a very romantic way to end our second date.

Dear Darling Reader,

I don’t want there to ever be any secrets between us! That is why I am posting the “Press Release” I sent to my family and friends announcing the birth of this adorable little blog. Weighing in at 4,000 pounds this little bundle of joy aims to bring you a lifetime of happiness! So here it is:

Hey everybody! I have some very exciting news! I am now a blogger! That means I have created my own blog just like Perez Hilton except mine will focus, of course, on FOOD.

I will post the inside scoop on chef gossip, restaurant reviews, pictures of stuff I make, recipes, dinner party ideas, and photos of my own little sausage, Brutus!!!! There will even be a special section dedicated to burritos and the passionate love affair we share.

I will laugh in the face of four star restaurants and scream "DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM" to matre d's all over town until everyone knows StoringUpForWinter (...because it's never too soon to start) and my name is synonymous with gluttony. I will eat my way through New York and share the whole experience with YOU! It is going to be a funny LT look on food and how it is the love of my life, so please check it out and tell your friends.

Please feel free to comment and give me your suggestions! I look forward to hearing what you think.
Keep on eatin',
LT

I Hope You’re Hungry…

because this is going to be the most incredible blog you have ever laid your shining eyes upon. I have so much that I want to get out, so many stories to tell, that it has been oozing from my pores like melted cheese on a double bacon burger. Sorry, too soon for food references? I promise from now on all personifications of food will be positive, no more pores involved. So thank you, dear reader, for stopping by and please feel free to make comments – you love food, you hate food (WEIRDO!) – whatever it is you want to say, go right ahead. Please check in whenever you get the chance, this is going to be fun and I wouldn’t want you to miss out. Eat it up, there’s plenty more to come.